


I Like Your Lipstick, Dear

by StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, because why not, cunninglingus, he's a little obsessed with red lipstick, his yandere side makes an appearance, just a bit, maybe a lot, oh just a bit of sex, okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: Originated from a prompt on tumblr (surprise!)Yoosung Kim has been saving for months to take his girlfriend out to a nice restaurant. But when he shows up at her house to get her, she has other plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> meeeeeerp. I'm not super confident in my smut-writing abilities. I hope it is good!

Yoosung is standing in the living room, a bouquet of bright summer flowers in his hand as he waits for her to exit, nervously fidgeting even though he doesn’t really know why. It’s not like it’s the first date they’ve ever been on, but he did save up his extra money for a couple of months to be able to take her to the nice restaurant that he’s reserved for them tonight. Which makes this sort of a special, he supposes.

He doesn’t mind waiting for her to get ready, not really; he’s early in the first place and he knows she sometimes frets over looking perfect, even though she already is that way in his eyes. But it’s part of who she is and he loves her as a whole, so he’ll happily stand here, eagerly awaiting the moment he gets to see his girlfriend’s shining face.

It’s not a long wait, and he perks up immediately, an excited grin on his face when he hears the door to her room creak open. She steps out, her hair falling lightly around her shoulders with just a hint of curl to it that bounces as she moves. The dress she’s settled on in a simple black one, the dark fabric a beautiful contrast to the creaminess of her skin and he can’t help as his eyes trace the outline, from the modest neckline and ¾ length sleeves to the way it hugs her curves down to flare out just slightly at mid-thigh. She looks stunning, and his breath hitches in his throat as he thanks whatever deity is responsible for bringing her into his life.

“Do you like?” she asks coyly, doing a simple twirl that causes the skirt to flutter around her legs, allowing him to glimpse even more skin. He thinks she might be trying to kill him, considering the way she poses when she stops, one leg edged forward with a hand on her hip and the other in her hair, bunching it up prettily. Fighting the urge to close the distance between them and replace her hands with his is difficult, but _no,_ he must remain in control so they will make their reservation on time.

It takes some effort but he drags his eyes away from all the tantalizing parts of her that she’s purposefully putting on display for him, managing to meet her smoldering gaze and flashing a weak smile, wondering if she knows what’s she’s doing to him, if she _knows_ how hard this is. “You look beautiful,” he breathes out, well aware of the awe laced in his voice and completely fine with it being there. He’s only speaking the truth, after all, and she deserves to hear that and so much more.

A wicked gleam appears in her eyes and she takes a couple of steps forward, the click of her heels loud on the tiled kitchen floor. “Let me just put on my lipstick and I’ll be ready to go.” Her purse is lying on the table and she reaches for it, fingers latching on the strap to bring it to her. Winking at him, she reaches a hand inside, digging around momentarily before pulling out a silver tube and popping off the lid.

Okay, now he _knows_ she is trying to kill him. There’s no way this was an accident, not the posing or the looks or the way she’s talking in that lower, huskier voice that’s typically reserved for the bedroom. He watches, entranced as she applies the color to her lips, the bright red standing out against everything else and calling to him on a primal level. Her lips press together and he’s shaking, _oh god he’s shaking,_ the flowers now dangling forgotten limply from hands that are focused on staying still. With a final quiet _pop_ as she parts her lips, she smirks at him, replacing the lid on the tube and sliding it back in the bag. Her eyebrows raise as she watches him, and he’s losing control, _losing control of the beast inside_ (as Zen would say - no, wait, _don’t_ think of Zen right now, oh my god) because all he wants to do is kiss those lips, to have that red tint smeared all over his face and her body and oh! This is not a tangent he should be allowing himself to go off on.

He swallows thickly, willing his fried brain to move forward and work the way he wants it to. “W-we should be g-going,” he chokes out, and the look she gives him is one of pure mischief. _Keep control, keep control, keep control._ It’s his new mantra, the two words he’s repeating to himself over and over again to try to make it happen.

It’s not working all too particularly well, honestly.

She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth (that red looks so beautiful, and so tempting against the white of them) and gives him an innocent look, tilting her head just the tiniest bit to the side and pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear slowly, slowly, her fingers trailing down the lobe and then her neck. When did his whole body start shaking? Is his blood on fire, because it sure feels like it is, like there’s hot _lava_ running through his veins and oh god, now she’s releasing her lip and running her tongue across it and-

He snaps, lunging forward with a loud moan, crashing his lips against those cherry ones, hands falling on her hips to jerk her forward and against him. She comes willingly, her little gasp music to his ears and he uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting and exploring her hungrily. Hands are trailing up his arms to his neck until she’s got one tangled in his hair, tugging against it _just_ the way he likes and he’s suffocating in her. He wants her, all of her, she is _his_ and he will make sure she _knows_ it and he is _hers_ and he wants her to mark him with that beautiful red stain on her lips, all over his body.

Drawing back for a quick breath, their eyes meet and he can’t breath when he sees how dark hers are, half-lidded and full of a need, a need that only he can fill. A need he _will_ fill, because she deserves everything and he will give her anything he can. She bites her lip again and he brings a hand away from her hips up to her mouth, gently pulling it out with his thumb and rubbing it across her lips, watching as it moves over the red and admiring the way it looks on her. He knows not why it drives him crazy when she dons this red lipstick, only that it does and that she, also, knows it does.

Lips part and she sucks his thumb into her mouth, never looking away as her tongue plays over it. He groans, heat coiling in his belly and below, and he slips his knee in between her legs even though it’s not what he wants to put there. His grip on her hip tightens, his fingers digging into her flesh through the fabric of the dress, and he can’t think straight as she nibbles gently at his thumb. K i l l i n g h i m.

When she releases it finally he wastes no time in claiming her again, his lips moving over hers and his tongue dancing with hers. His now-free hand palms her breast over the dress and she moans, pressing down against his leg and _he wants more_ , and he shows it in how he’s kissing her, hard and passionate and full of want. Desire is running rampant through him and he's uncomfortable in his pants, he just want her so badly and yes-

“Y-Yoosung,” she whimpers and she grinds against him, and he's busy leaving kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He wants to suck and to bite, to mark her as his so no one else will look at her but he resists. Frustration hits when he reaches the neckline of her dress and he considers taking it off of her but decides no, this'll be more fun with it on. So instead he gently pushes her back against the wall before he sinks to his knees, her grip on his hair tightening when he's on the floor. He presses kisses over the cloth to her stomach, his hands hovering just over her skin as he makes his way down, down, down.

Looking up, he locks eyes with her at the same time as he runs a finger over the outside of her panties. She bucks against him and whines, panting heavily. She's wet, _so_ wet, for him. He can't stand it.

Fingers hook into the elastic and he yanks them down and off, wasting no time in pulling a leg up to rest on his shoulder. He hears her head smack against the wall and he smiles before leaning forward, pressing kisses to each of her thighs and flattening his tongue to lick up her slit. Groaning at how she tastes and the mewling noises coming from above him, he continues, teasing around her folds and flicking softly at her swollen clit. He traces along the inner side of her thigh as he does this, light enough to cause goosebumps to appear on the sensitive skin. Without warning, he latches onto her bud and gives it a hard suck that elicites a wail from her, releasing it with an answering moan.

She tastes so sweet on his tongue as it swipes along, and he dips down to tease at her entrance, their position not allowing him to do much more than barely penetrate it. It’s enough, though, because she scrapes her nails against his scalp and chokes out his name, trying to push him down further to get even more. Instead he moves back, nosing her clit once before sucking it again. He has other plans.

The hand on her thigh moves upward and a finger circles around her entrance, once, twice and then slips in, his cock jerking when she cries out. He continues licking and sucking at her clit, crooking his finger and searching for something. Adding another finger, he hums happily when she shudders and starts to beg, knowing he found the spot that causes her to see stars. She’s grinding down against his fingers and his face and he takes it, his tongue focused solely on her nub as his fingers drive in and out of her. A third finger is added and she starts to tremble, writhing and bucking against him and he increases his pace, groaning against her as he feels her walls contract around him. She’s gasping and pulling at his hair, and then suddenly she’s there, and he knows both from the way she screams his name (and how he loves to hear that) and the sudden rush of fluid onto his tongue. He laps it up eagerly, continuing to finger-fuck her through her orgasm until she’s slumped against the wall and he’s satisfied that he’s gathered every last drop of her sweet juices.

“You taste so good” he says, his voice low and thick, looking up at her through his blonde bangs and licking off his fingers. Her face is flushed beautifully, her chest rising and falling visibly with every breath that saws in and out of her, and he feels a flash of pride at her current state. _I did that._ The cherry red of her lipstick is smeared around her lips and he feels the fire within burn hotter at the sight.

Jealousy surges in him at the thought of anyone else seeing her wearing it. Fingers that have found their way back to her hips clench and he growls, “I don't want anyone else to see you in that lipstick. I want you to wear it only for me. Never show it to anyone else.” He pauses as she nods, eyes trailing back to her thighs and an idea springs forth. “I want to mark you as mine.”

He hears the sharp inhale at the request, eyes not leaving the patch of skin he's chosen. “Mark me, Yoosung.” The words are barely out of her mouth before he's biting down on her thigh, reveling in the way her hands scramble to find purchase on his shoulders. The skin is salty with her sweat and he runs his tongue across the bit pinched between his teeth, feeling her shudder above him. He releases the skin only to suck on it, spending time to make sure it won't fade easily when he's done.

One day he'll leave a mark where everybody can see and know she's _his._

When he is finished she's trembling again, begging him to please, _please_ fuck her, because she _needs_ him. Who is he to turn her down? He gently takes her leg off his shoulder and places it back on the ground, pulling himself up into a standing position only to lunge forward and wrap his fingers in her hair, pressing his lips against hers in a fiery show of passion. She moans in his mouth when he rolls his hips into hers, the sound swallowed as he repeats the action, nipping at her bottom lip. Hands work their way down his side and slip between them and he can feel her working at the buttons on his pants desperately. Despite her shaking hands, she manages to get them undone quickly and pushes them off his hips with no delay, palming his neglected erection through his boxers immediately. He growls, thrusting into her hand and tangling his fingers even tighter in her hair in response, panting against her mouth.

“Y-Yoosung, please,” she whimpers, tugging down the boxers now and allowing his cock to spring free. He shivers as the cool air washes over his heated skin briefly before her hand is on the shaft, pulling him closer and maneuvering the head to her entrance. They both groan as his length slides along her slickness, and he lays his forehead against hers, staring at where she's biting her lip. The red is still there, still bright and calling to him like a siren; he'll answer that call in a minute. But right now he can feel the tip of his erection pressing into her just a bit and he lets out a shuddering breath. Closing his eyes, he encases himself in her tight warmth slowly, a long, drawn out moan escaping him. He finds himself once again thanking whatever god there is, this time for her making the choice to be on birth control and telling him to stop using condoms, because it just feels so different this way.

It takes all of his self-restraint to stay still for a moment, breathing heavily as he tries to calm his fast-beating heart. Being inside of her feels so good, it _always_ feels so good, and if he's not careful, he won't last.

_“Please."_

Then again, if she keeping begging in that tone, he won't last, either.

Taking a deep breath, he pulls mostly out until only the tip remains, feeling her undulating beneath him as she tries to impale herself on his cock. He smirks; well, if she wants to be fucked _that_ badly...

Slamming back in, he draws a loud whine from her and he opens his eyes, watching her eyelids flutter as he does it again, and again. With each thrust her mouth opens slightly further and her cries grow louder, every little noise driving him crazy with want. Unable to resist any further, he dives down and bites her lip, his hips stuttering at the wail she gives. One leg lifts off the floor to wrap around his waist and it must change the positioning just right because now she’s arching off the wall and into him, his open lips on hers catching every little delicious noise she’s making and sending them straight down to where the heat is coiling tighter and tighter. He does his best to maintain the angle they’re at, one hand still in her hair and the other snaking down to awkwardly thumb at her clit, and even though the way his hand is cocked to the side feels weird to him it seems to be exactly what she needs.

He circles the swollen nub and kisses her bruisingly, continuing to ram into her as her moans increase in volume. It’s obvious she’s getting close, so close to another orgasm and he’s barely holding on, but he _won’t_ come before her because he’s not that guy. Those red lips are absolutely enticing but he needs to act now and so he grudgingly pulls away and leans over to her ear, nibbling the lobe before giving a hoarse order: “you’re mine, only mine. Cum for me, my love.”

It works like a charm and he gasps when he feels her walls starting to tighten around him, and she first shouts and then chants his name over and over like she’s singing his praises. Her voice is so melodic, so beautiful and, right now, so _raw_ from this and it’s just perfect, absolutely perfect to him. The coil breaks and he’s sailing over the edge as well, the pleasure from his release rushing through his body like a waterfall. His thrusts become more erratic but he keeps going, making sure to milk their orgasms as much as he can before his hands find purchase on the wall, holding him up as he pants over her.

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles up at him, still a hint of the red that had started this whole thing hanging onto her lips. Bringing a thumb down and rubbing at it, he can’t help the low chuckle that escapes him. “Now we’re going to be late for our date, all because you had to pull out the one thing you know drives me crazy,” he teases, not upset at all. How could he be, after all of this? He sobers up quickly though, looking at his thumb, now tinted red. “But I was serious about not wearing this in public.”

Smirking at him, she pushes off the wall and cocks her head to the side. “We’ll see~” she sings, ducking under his arms and skipping back into her room. She pauses at the doorway, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “Let’s get cleaned up and then go on this date. I’m excited to see what you have planned!”

 _As though what I have planned for us is even close to what you had planned,_ he thinks, laughing quietly and shaking his head as he follows her.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [cutiesaeran](http://cutiesaeran.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@MysticHawke](https://twitter.com/MysticHawke/)!


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